


It Was Really Nothing

by sp00ky_mulder



Series: Sportarobbie High School Chronicles [4]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Domestic Violence, He is a nice boy but the product of two very bad people, His parents are dicks how about that, Intense yearning for gender roles, It's not physical but violence is violence, M/M, Sportacus is still sportacis but that doesn't make a difference in this case, Transmisogny, Transphobia, but here's some serious tagging coming up brace yourself, domestic abuse, sort of, this is a bit of a fiasco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00ky_mulder/pseuds/sp00ky_mulder
Summary: Arriving home from Robbie's house one day proves to be an awful mistake, and Sportacus doesn't understand why Mom and Dad are so upset until he can't fix it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a direct continuation of my fic "Happy Boys Like You", but that is not a necessary read!

By the time Sportacus was on his way home, the skies were darkening, looking like it could rain. He knew it wouldn't and that it was only due to the days being a touch shorter, but it encouraged him to hurry, though he'd come to see that as a mistake. 

Stepping through the front door tended to bring about some level of anxiety, the generalized fear that something might be wrong. Today was different than any other day, though, and Sportacus walked in with a hint of a grin on his lips as he mentally relived his makeover session. It was a shame that it all had to be washed away and all, but since he'd gotten a few pictures, he could say that it hadn't been a waste of time. 

The first person to greet him was his father, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. He snapped awake when he got a proper look at his son, giving him a quick dose of pleasant surprise before speaking up. 

"What is that?" Slurred words tumbled out of his mouth, but he was neither high nor drunk. Just immensely tired. 

"What's what?" Sportacus' stomach sank as the solemnity of his father's voice chilled his bones. 

" _That."_

Against his better judgement, Sportacus reached up to touch his lips, taking a quick swipe and peering at his fingers in horror, because the motion had left behind a vivid, pink strip. 

"It's nothing, it's alright-" Yet it was useless to try. His father had no reservations; the dynamic was that Sportacus would do something, he'd clue in his wife as she would otherwise be enraged if she was kept out of the loop, and she took care of the rest. A cowardly move on his part, but that's how things worked. 

"I can't let this go without telling her." The way he said this was slow, meticulous, and somehow sorrowful. 

"Yes, you can. Please, it won't happen again. We can keep a secret, right? It won't hurt anybody."

It was already too late, and there had never been a time where it wouldn't have been. All signs of regretting from his father faded away with a shrug of his unfeeling shoulders. Sportacus could only watch as they disappeared into the other room to be replaced by his mother. 

"Would you like to explain yourself?" That conclusively meant that it wasn't a choice, and he was being ordered to sign his own death certificate. 

"I..." He searched for the right words to say, running through every answer's possible outcome before realizing he needed to keep Robbie out of the equation if he ever wanted to see him again. "I was just messing around with some of my girl friends' makeup. I'm really sorry."

"Your girlfriend?"

"No, like, my friends who are also girls." The brief, hopeful expression his mother held vanished. 

"Natch. So, let me ask you: what the hell did you think you were doing?" Every syllable increased the volume, and if it progressed at a linear rate, she'd soon be shouting. 

"I don't know, I didn't mean anything by it." Sportacus could hear his tone wavering and he pleaded with himself to keep steady. 

"So you went and did it for the fucking fun of it?" She was full on wailing now, making her son retract involuntarily. 

"I-I guess? I don't know, mom. Please, just stop yelling, okay? I promise I won't do it again." It was humiliating to have her see him cry, and even more so when the tears stained his cheeks with mascara. 

"Fucking hell, what's wrong with you? You look like some kind of transvestite whore with all that shit on your face. Go clean it off and wait for me in your room when you're done." She didn't look in the mood to talk anymore, so Sportacus didn't respond.

While he pressed scratchy mineral soap to his eyelids, Sportacus wondered if Robbie would be sad that his efforts were for naught. The thought made him scrape a little less furiously, observing the swirling colors disappearing down the bathroom sink's drain. The pink lipgloss stained the white marble, and he scrubbed that away, too. 

Back in his bedroom, Sportacus waited like he was asked to, sitting up straight in his bed, not daring to do anything else that deviated from his instructions. After a long period of this, his mother finally entered, leaning her bony elbow against his dresser. 

"Look up at me," she said. He did, and she nodded in approval, having a much easier time looking at him now that the offensive materials were gone. "Do you see why I was mad?"

"Yes." But not fully. 

"I can't just let you go around looking like that, can I?"

"No."

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes." The annoyed frown began to return to his mother's face. "I love you too."

"Goodnight, Sport." And she disappeared again, closing the door behind her. 

Because it was only 7:00, Sportacus hadn't brushed his teeth, or done any of his nighttime routine for that matter. Too scared to come out of his room to do anything about that, he laid in bed, staring up at the dark blue ceiling. Flecks of gentle green lights came into sight after his eyes adjusted to the dim setting; they were glow-in-the-dark stars that Robbie had insisted on sticking most everywhere in his bedroom. " _Why would you have this deep a blue without treating it like a sky?"_ Sportacus had thought it was funny that he was so passionate about these things, and he still did, but it brought him comfort to think about now. Just then, a different source of light made itself known in the form of his phone's screen waking. It was as if Robbie's ears had been burning since it was his message.

_hey, i didn't get to write down your insta un so if you could give it to me that'd be fantastic. unless you've got some scandalous things on there i'm not allowed to know about? ;)_

He couldn't laugh aloud, but a sharp exhale replaced it where it would have been, and he could almost see Robbie making the same face he used regularly in text.

_it's supportacus!! nd i dont think u'll find anythng bad about me unless ur stll angry w/ everythng healthy LOL!_

Immediately after he'd sent it, a notification popped up that Robbie had read it, which wasn't something he was used to seeing. Robbie was the type to leave the chat as soon as he'd said what he wanted to, oddly scared of seeming too attached despite simultaneously acknowledging their closeness.

 _i absolutely am still angry, i have been betrayed too many times by your health craze._ _by the way, i didn't get to tell you that you hadn't taken off all of your makeup before you left. did your parents get mad? or did you manage to sneak it past?_

Not wanting to spoil the mood, Sportacus stared at his screen for a bit. After some consideration, he ended up reminding himself about how perceptive his friend was, and how sad he might get if he found out he was lying.

_both of thm saw. dad didnt rly care but mom got kinda mad. nthing rly happened though so im happy about that_

Once again, his reply came without delay.

_i'm sorry that she wasn't a fan. did she say anything? or did she just look angry or something?_

_both. she mostly kept sayng tht she cant let me be like that but i dunno what "that" is. it's OK though b/c i know she's wrong._

_wrong about what?_

_abt how boys shouldnt do certain thngs. u know how she is._

_yeah, i do. but you're doing alright, right?_

_yeah!! im still sad but thngs will b fine tmrrw. also i cried nd tht helps with being sad so im happy about tht too._

_you don't make any sense, ever. it's good that you're so freakishly positive._

_i have 2 be!! and ive got thngs to be happy abt so why not be positive??_

_what things are you happy about?_

_school nd dogs nd my rly good friend robbie!!_

By then, Sportacus had tired himself out from thinking and crying. It wasn't 8:08, but there was no such thing as too much sleep, and the sooner he went to bed, the sooner he could go back to where he wanted to be. Next time, he'd have Robbie help with disposing of the evidence. 


End file.
